I work at a fairly basic campsite. We just provide a big field with a few basic toilet/shower facilities and a small store near the entrance.

An unscheduled car has pulled up, and the driver is asking me about how much it is to rent a spot for the weekend. I tell him our price.

Tourist: “So affordable! There are four of us: me and the wife and our two kids. When can you have the tent up?”

Me: “What tent?”

Tourist: “We need you to build us our tent. For camping! Not much camping without a tent!”

Me: “We don’t provide a tent building service, sir. You do that yourself.”

Tourist: “Wait, you mean I have to build my own tent?!”

Me: “Uh… yes? We only provide the campsite and some basic toiletry facilities.”

Tourist: “Ugh… fine. Where do I get them?”

Me: “Get the what?”

Tourist: “The tents? Do you, like, bring them to me when I pick a spot, or…?”

Me: “Sir, you… bring the tents with you. You bring everything with you. All we supply are toilets and showers. We have a basic supply shop near the entrance that sells things like bug spray and some snacks, but we don’t provide tents.”

Tourist: “Wait… bug spray? You mean there are bugs out here?”

Me: “I think maybe camping isn’t for you, sir…”

I work at a warehouse. I’m heading out to my car to go home after my shift when I see one of the company vans parked in the space behind me, with its front bumper making contact with my rear bumper. I take a picture, go back inside, and inform the driving department manager, and he asks me to pull forward to show the damage so he can take a picture, as well. Luckily, the only damage is some barely noticeable scuffing.

[Driving Manager] tells me the driver of that particular van has had a history of close calls with parking, but this was his first time hitting someone, and he’ll have a talk with him about it. I am able to quickly buff out the scuffing on my car back home. From what I hear, [Driver] gets written up because it isn’t his first instance of him bumping other vehicles.

About a week later, I’m getting into my car when the driver of the van from the last time pulls into the spot behind me. Once again, he makes contact with my rear bumper, and I actually feel it this time. I quickly get out and assess the damage, and I take another picture — this time it’s more significant, as my bumper is cracked. The driver gets out at the same time.

Driver: “What are you doing?”

Me: “You just hit my car and cracked my bumper. I’m taking a picture of the damage.”

Driver: “Stop whining! I didn’t hit you at all! The damage was already there!”

Me: “No, it wasn’t. That is a fresh crack on my bumper. You can’t convince me that this wasn’t you.”

Driver: “I didn’t hit your car!”

Me: “No, you absolutely did hit my car. The damage lines up perfectly. You literally cannot deny that this was your doing.”

Driver: “Shut up! You’re just making this up to get me in trouble! For the last time, I did not hit you!”

At this point, [Driving Manager], who saw the incident while cleaning his own company truck, comes over.

Driving Manager: “Yes. Yes, you did hit him, [Driver]. I saw it, the parking lot cameras saw it, the dashcam in your van saw it, and I’m pretty sure [My Name]’s dashcam saw it. Go to my office and wait for me there, [Driver]. We’ll need to talk about this in a moment. [My Name], I’m going to take a few pictures of the damage, and then you can go home. When you come in tomorrow, come right to me and we’ll get things sorted out.”

When I went in the following day, [Driving Manager] helped me get an appointment set up to fix my car. The bumper had to be completely replaced, along with the parking sensors inside it, which ended up costing about $3,200 altogether, including the cost of my rental. The company’s insurance covered everything.

Meanwhile, [Driver] lost his job, not just for hitting my car again, but for adamantly insisting he was not at fault despite the large amounts of evidence proving otherwise.

I was leading a meeting in which we were making some technical decisions about our product design. One guy on the team, the technical expert, was very much the prima donna. He really did have unique skills and information that were incredibly valuable to the program, but he was a complete arrogant jerk. Someone in the meeting said something [Expert] disagreed with, and he started yelling, cursing, pounding his fists, and stomping his feet. Everyone was staring at him like he was insane.

I waited silently until he wound down.

Me: *Calmly* “You know, [Expert], when my two-year-old yells, stomps his feet, and pounds his fists, I give him a snack and send him to his room until he calms down. I’m going to suggest now that we end this meeting, get some coffee and cookies from the break room, and go back to our offices, and I’ll reschedule this when we’re all ready to resume. Okay?”

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone realized that I’d just called our technical expert a temperamental toddler. Then, [Expert] turned so red I thought he was going to explode at me, but three other people stood up and said, “Yes, that’s a great idea,” and physically interposed themselves between [Expert] and me while others basically escorted him out.

He never spoke to me again after that, but not long thereafter, we hired another expert in the same field and he was soon made redundant.

I live in a small town in Michigan in the middle of nowhere. Our police force is very small (currently ten active duty officers), and I only recently started my duty as a policewoman. I’m mostly stationed on the east side of the city, but I grew up on the west side. Not many people recognize me here, so I come across a lot of Entitled Jerks who don’t know I’m a cop when I’m off duty or undercover. We get a lot of them near the end of the month in and around our shopping mall, so even in my off hours, I spend some time down there just in case there’s an emergency.

One day, I was shopping for my friend’s birthday when I heard a commotion at the front of the store. It didn’t seem too major, but I decided I’d been shopping long enough, and I was curious anyway, so I made my way over to pay. At the registers, I saw a woman in a heated debate with one of the young employees working there. I set myself up in the checkout behind her and kept my hand near my phone in case I needed to text my on-duty friend.

Woman: “I DON’T UNDERSTAND! HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?! DID YOU EVEN GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL? I HAVE THESE COUPONS THAT COVER THAT AND THAT, AND THIS IS 50% OFF! THEREFORE, MY TOTAL SHOULD BE THIS AND THAT!”

Employee: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I told you that coupon is expired, and even with those coupons that aren’t expired, you can’t use two on the same purchase.”

Woman: “I DEMAND TO SEE YOUR MANAGER!”

Employee: “I’m sorry, she’s out at the moment. If you would like to wait for her, I can hold your items for you—”

Woman: “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! I HAVE PLACES TO BE! JUST GIVE ME THIS FOR FREE!”

Employee: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that—”

Woman: “THEN GET ME AN OLDER EMPLOYEE WHO CAN!”

At that point, the woman had gone from yelling to screaming and had thrown her coupons at the cashier.

Me: “Ma’am, please calm down. She’s just a teenager, and throwing things is just plain childish.”

Woman: “YOU DON’T TALK TO ME THAT WAY, MISSY! MIND YOUR OWN D*** BUSINESS!”

I shrugged and closed my mouth, but I told myself that if she did anything more aggressive, I’d pull out my badge. They kept at this back and forth for a while, the woman demanding the same things and the girl apologizing and repeating her answer.

Finally, when the woman realized she wasn’t getting what she wanted, she grabbed her bags and sprinted for the door. I waited for her to cross the security rails, and as they went off, I caught up to her in a few seconds (she was a very slow, portly woman) and tackled her to the ground. After reading the woman her rights, I called my buddy, and he came to arrest her, getting the camera footage from the store and even bringing me down to help him fill out paperwork. She was charged $500 for petty thievery and was banned from the store permanently.

From 1993 to 2008, my husband and I owned a hobby shop. I had a full-time job elsewhere, and my husband ran the shop.

After 9/11, he was called up for active duty (he was a reservist), and I’d been laid off, so I would work in the shop until I had to pick our kids up from school.

One morning, a woman came in and started looking at various Games Workshop figures and boxed sets. These were not cheap by any means, and retailers didn’t get the normal markdown from the manufacturer, so they were rarely discounted.

She approached the counter to check out, and I began ringing her up.

Customer: *Rather rudely* “I get a 50% discount as I’m the owner’s wife.”

Me: “Really? Wow. How long have you been married?”

Customer: “Oh, just a few months. We just recently got married…”

Me: “Really? Well, d***, it’s nice to meet you since I’m his wife and the one he f***s at night and not you. Do you still want this figure pack or not? Because you’re not getting any discount.”

The customer stood there like a fish out of water, the way her mouth was opening and closing. I set the figure pack under the counter.

Me: “Time for you to get out of my shop and never come back.”

After she left, I called my husband to tell him about it and he was like, “D***, some people will try anything!”